Page 23 of Murder By the Millions

The glass and the wood rattled, mirroring how I felt.

An hour later, after the last customers had gone and only Tegan, Chloe, and I were in the shop, Vanna swanned in with a huge tray of baked goods. Her mother, Noeline Merriweather, trailed her. Noeline, who was just shy of sixty-one, turned heads. Attired in a frilly floral frock, her bobbed hair gently curled, she reminded me of Blanche DuBois inA Streetcar Named Desire.

“I’m sorry, Allie, about earlier,” Vanna said. “I was in the wrong.”

In all the years I’d known her, I couldn’t remember her ever saying the wordsorry.Certainly not to me.

“Go on,” Noeline said. “Tell her you were being a diva.”

“I was being a diva.”

I didn’t disagree. Chloe tamped down a snort. Tegan elbowed her.

“I’m working on this aspect of my personality with my therapist,” Vanna added.

I mentally palm slapped my forehead. She was in therapy? I exchanged a look with Tegan, who looked as shocked as I was.

“Auntie encouraged me to go, but I never did. When she died …” Vanna’s gaze skated toward the ceiling, as if she was trying to stem tears. She lowered her chin. “I’m going to honor her.”

Noeline smiled. “And to help yourself.”

“Yes.” Vanna placed the tray of goodies on the sales counter.

I caught sight of the macarons and her specialty, petits fours, and my mouth began to salivate. I snagged a pink macaron and bit into it. “Delicious. You’re forgiven.”

The compliment made her smile.

“What can I do for the event, girls?” Noeline asked. Twice a widow, after her second husband—Tegan’s father, the true love of her life—passed away from a rare blood disease, she’d pieced herself together and invested wisely. The B&B was a huge success and was constantly filled with happy travelers.

“You’ve done enough, Mom,” Tegan said. “You emailed all the invitations.”

In this day and age of onlineeverything,we didn’t send formal invitations. The cost was prohibitive. E-vites worked perfectly well.

“But I want to do more,” Noeline said. “I want the event to be thrilling. After all,The Great Gatsbyis one of my favorites. I can quote so many lines.” She intoned, “‘I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life.’ Dear sweet Gatsby.” She sighed. “He was so incredibly forlorn, don’t you think?”

“Mom, Nick, the narrator in the book, says that line.”

“I know, darling. It’s neither here nor there. We’re not competing in a comparative literature contest.” She raised a finger in the air. “I was merely commenting on the character of Gatsby. I think he is to be pitied.”

All of us agreed.

“How about if I take on the chore of having quotes printed like you did for the memorial?” Noeline asked. To honor Marigold, we’d chosen selections fromPride and Prejudice.“It was such a lovely touch.”

“Yes, please do,” I said.

Chloe cleared her throat. “But—”

I shot her a look. Granted, she was in charge of printing and posting the quotes, but Noeline looked earnest and in need of a project. I was sure I could find more for Chloe to do. The décor alone was going to require a lot of hands. We hadn’t adorned the shop for Marigold’s memorial.

“Oh, by the way, daughters,” Noeline said, “since you’re both here, I’d like to tell you the news. I’m considering purchasing another bed-and-breakfast.”

“And selling the Blue Lantern?” Vanna cried.

“No. I’d own two.”

“Mom, that’s too much,” Tegan protested.

“No it’s not. I’ve easily got the ability to leverage the one and snag the other, and if I need to pay all cash to get it, I can. I’m flush. It’s also in Montford and so adorable. A pink Victorian with white vergeboard trim. The garden needs work.”